


Into Darkness, Unafraid

by Auriana Valoria (AuriV1)



Series: Herald of Change [15]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Haven (Dragon Age), Lyrium Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25957159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuriV1/pseuds/Auriana%20Valoria
Summary: The Inquisition begins...
Series: Herald of Change [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636348
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

Three days after the Breach was stabilized, Cullen sat alone on the pier over the frozen lake, gazing at what remained of the hole in the Veil as it now lazily churned in the distance, hanging over them as a reminder that their doom had very nearly come to fruition. The temperature had turned even more frigid, quite possibly signaling an early transition to winter, and his breath left him as steady clouds of vapor in the morning air. A sharp breeze ruffled his hair and danced through the fur of his mantle, its icy tendrils stinging his skin to a pink hue on his nose and cheeks, all the while the steady rays of the sun warmed the leathers of his gloves and breeches. He smiled softly to himself as he let his eyes slide shut and concentrated on just these feelings for but a few moments. It felt good to be able to focus on such simple sensations after days’ worth of solemnly contemplating the end of the world. After such a close brush with utter destruction, he had gained a new appreciation for them.

He was not alone in such a sentiment. The denizens of Haven, after properly seeing their dead to rest and mourning for a day, had indulged themselves in celebration. There was no training, no maintenance of routines, no _anything_ but rest, recovery, and enjoyment of simple pleasures. They had just averted a disaster the magnitude of which Thedas had never before seen. Affairs of importance could wait for at least a few more days while they caught their breath.

But, despite their victory over the Fade, the fact remained that the Breach was still extant, even if it wasn’t pouring out demons anymore, and they could not ignore its continued presence for long. The mage who had risked her life to seal it had been, according to Cassandra, knocked unconscious immediately and yet remained so, last he heard. She was tended to by Adan and Solas as she recovered, and, by the grace of the Maker, she was slowly showing signs of improvement. He had been told that she was in excruciating pain prior to the Breach’s stabilization, and that it would take quite a long time for her body to recover from the severe trauma it had experienced.

On top of that, Haven was now conflicted about this woman, their savior, more than ever before. That she had stopped the expansion of the Breach was confirmation enough for most that she really _was_ sent by the Maker to help them, guided to them at the right place and time to save them from the evil machinations of whatever monster had created the Breach to begin with. To some, however, including the ever-vocal Chancellor Roderick, she had merely closed the Breach to save herself, and her efforts did not clear her from wrongdoing. An even smaller percentage of the local population firmly believed her to be the Divine’s murderer, to the point of attempting to kill her by their own hands in retribution; one such would-be assassin was only thwarted by the presence of Solas, who just happened to be in the cabin observing her at the time the miscreant snuck inside. Since then, Cullen had stationed a guard outside her cabin door, a man he knew he could trust, and had the windows sealed.

By some extraordinary coincidence, the commander had yet to lay eyes on her, despite the fact they both had been within the walls for days. If the accounts of his men were to be taken literally, she was everything from a terrifying, demon-possessed sorceress of unimaginable power to the magnificently beautiful reincarnation of Andraste. Indeed, some had even begun to call her the “Herald of Andraste,” a title coined by the soldiers who found her, who had been certain that the female figure seen in the rift where she had emerged was the Bride of the Maker herself. That epithet, which was becoming increasingly accepted by the general populace, had fanned the flames of controversy even more.

 _How could a mage be the Herald of Andraste?_ he overheard some ask. _Magic destroyed Andraste through Tevinter_ , they said, _How would the Lady have ever blessed the hand of a cursed woman?_ _She works only for her own gain, as all mages do._

But, according to both Cassandra and Leliana’s verbal reports, that was quite a false assessment. Despite the fact that she was apparently suffering severe amnesia due to the explosion, she willingly and even gladly went with the Hands to the Breach in order to do whatever she could to stop it. She was confused, obviously in pain, and even fearful at first, but she demonstrated bravery and determination in the face of adversity, voluntarily putting her life on the line for all their sakes. Not only that, but according to the Seeker, the Fade had ultimately revealed a secret that had exonerated her in both the Hands’ eyes: the Divine had called upon the prisoner for aid just before the explosion had taken place. To Cassandra, it seemed as though this Lady Trevelyan had interrupted the true culprit in the middle of the act and had merely been at the wrong place at the wrong time all along.

Or the right one, depending on perspective.

 _And what do_ you _believe, Rutherford?_ he asked himself.

It was a question that had hovered in the back of his mind ever since the prisoner had been found. In a way, she reminded him of Hawke: suspicious, at first, but very much a victim of circumstance, as Josephine had suggested. All evidence, however incredible, pointed to her innocence. Plus, she had witnesses of all sorts vouching for her character – those who knew her both before and after the incident. And, perhaps above all else, she had managed to secure the trust of Cassandra Pentaghast herself – the very woman who had been the most adamant of them all about the prisoner’s guilt from the outset. That feat alone was enough to satisfy him.

Yes, she was a mage. Yes, she apparently had enough power to warrant her Circle granting her the title of Archmage, a title he had only known one other mage to possess. Yes, she had a potentially-dangerous, suspicious, not to mention volatile magical anomaly branded on her palm by an unknown and possibly malevolent source. But he could not see how these factors made her _ineligible_ to receive the Maker’s favor or Andraste’s guidance. He had spent much time after Meredith’s defeat reminding himself that the Children of the Maker included mages, despite their dangerous gifts.

He didn’t know whether or not the prisoner was Andraste’s Herald any more than anyone else, something he continuously emphasized to anyone who pressed him for his opinion. But regardless of whether or not she really was blessed by the Maker, who were they to assume that she wasn’t for no other reason than because of her magic? Claiming to know the will of heaven was a temptation to which too many had let themselves fall, particularly those who were supposedly more educated in the ways of the Maker. He wasn’t about to let such hubris influence his own beliefs.

Pride. A demon, and a dangerous one. More treacherous than Desire, and far deadlier than Rage, though all were poisons for the soul, so the Chantry taught. He knew the sting of each, and their venom took far too long to leave his system.

Just like it was taking something else far too long to leave him.

He had hoped that after the Breach was stabilized, his nightmares would ease. And they did, somewhat, the hole in the Fade now blocked and thereby numbing its effect on his dreams. But blurry visions still danced in his head each night, tormenting him with memories and sensations that yet caused him to wake in cold sweats. The lyrium’s punishment did not stop there; his trembling hands continued to come and go in sporadic spells, sometimes lasting for hours at a time, rendering him unable to write for their duration. Now, to make matters even worse, he was beginning to experience chronic headaches, starting every morning after he rose from bed and throbbing behind his eyes just persistently enough to make him irritable for most of the day. This irritability was one reason why he had decided to come here, in hopes that the distance from the hubbub and the relative solitude would help mend his frayed nerves. To his great relief, in less than an hour’s time, the calm and quiet had done wonders, almost erasing his symptoms entirely…

… _almost_.

Unfortunately, the effects of his abstinence from lyrium yet persisted even now, dancing on the edge of his awareness, requiring only the slightest provocation to come rushing forth again. He knew it would only get worse in the future. But he would endure it. He _would_ persevere. He had to.

Suddenly, his brow furrowed as he thought he heard some sort of commotion coming from the direction of the village. Not a panicked one, thank the Maker, but there were more voices than usual humming in the air, gradually growing louder and louder. Curious, he rose to his feet, brushing himself off before heading towards the settlement. When he finally entered, he saw that there was a crowd so thick near the gates and around the main thoroughfare that he couldn’t see past them, and this audience chattered away like magpies in an unbroken buzz of conversation. Rylen stood to his right with arms crossed, and Cullen cast the Knight-Captain a quizzical look.

“You’re late, Commander,” Rylen teased in answer. “The ‘Herald’ is up and about. Just headed to the Chantry.”

“Oh?” Cullen asked with raised brows, somehow not surprised that he had missed her yet again.

“Indeed,” Rylen nodded, “though I’d be careful, if I were her. Roderick is liable to tear her to pieces himself if she gets within reach of him.”

Cullen smirked, clasping the pommel of his sword with both hands. “I’m certain that he is in far more danger than she, at the moment.”

“True,” Rylen chuckled, glancing in the direction of the Chantry. “Lady Pentaghast has been in a right state, and it seems like the good Chancellor is doing his best to push her over the edge.”

Then, as if on cue, Roderick’s figure suddenly could be seen forcefully pushing through the throngs of people that now milled about the streets as they slowly dispersed to continue their previous business. His reddened face, almost matching his tabard in hue, and his balled fists at his sides told the both of them that Cassandra finally had enough of his prodding. The Chancellor said not a word to anyone as shoved between them, not even in apology, and he didn’t acknowledge either Cullen or Rylen as he passed.

“There goes trouble,” the Knight-Captain muttered as they turned and watched Roderick burst through the gates, headed straight for the stables.

“So I imagine,” Cullen remarked dryly. Roderick had been a hindrance to the Hands of the Divine at every turn, especially now that the Breach had been stabilized. He had no doubt that wherever the Chancellor was headed, it was to find aid in his obstructionism. Likely in the form of the remaining Grand Clerics.

The excitement of the Herald’s waking steadily waned amongst the spectators that had gathered, and after a few minutes, everyone had finally cleared the main thoroughfare in front of the gates. It was not long after this that Cullen caught sight of a messenger jogging through the village, headed straight for them.

“Heads-up,” Rylen said, pointing.

Cullen nodded, watching and waiting for the courier to arrive. Once she reached them, the young woman gave him a brief salute and jerked her thumb at the Chantry. “Lady Pentaghast requests your presence, Commander. She says it is of utmost importance. She told me to tell you ‘It is done.’”

Both he and Rylen exchanged wide-eyed glances. That could only mean one thing.

“Very well. Thank you. I will go to her immediately.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, this is it, then.”

Cullen, Cassandra, Josephine, and Leliana all stared at the heavy book – the final writ of Divine Justinia – that lay open before them on the table. Beside it sat the proclamation that the Ambassador had drawn together, the ink still wet and the wax of their seals yet cooling upon the vellum.

“Yes, it is,” Cassandra replied, her voice solemn.

“It is what the Divine wanted,” Leliana added, her hands pulled behind her back, “and now we must move forward with her plan.”

“ _Everything_ is here,” Josephine’s tone was one of awestruck reverence as she thumbed through the pages of the book, leaning forward in her seat. “There are schematics for armor and weapons, drawings of banners and heraldry…”

“All that is required now are people to create them,” Cassandra interjected, glancing to each of them. “I will speak to Harritt… perhaps he would like to formally join the Inquisition and begin making these weapons and armor for our recruits.”

“We will need access to raw resources to help make that happen,” Cullen remarked.

Josephine pushed back in her chair and sighed. “I have a few contacts that might be able to help with initial supplies, but it seems likely that we will need to collect those resources ourselves.”

“I will go see Adan,” Leliana added. “See if he also wishes to join. His skills have proven invaluable these past few days, and we need a great many healers if we are to keep our troops in fighting condition.”

Cullen nodded. “Agreed. I will also have a talk with Rylen and speak with the Templars who yet remain. When they first joined with us, they didn’t sign up for pursuing the Divine’s murderer, so I feel obligated to give them a chance to back out now. On the other hand, there are also former rebels who might be interested in offering their services, especially if promised protection and a salary.”

“The Herald has already gone to ask the same of the mages here,” Cassandra said as she crossed her arms. “There is also one I wish to recruit personally – an elf by the name of Minaeve. She has been caring for the Tranquil in the camp, and it seems she has a talent for analyzing the strengths and weaknesses of creatures of all sorts, including the debilitating effects of venomous and magical beasts. I think we could use her skills to help our soldiers in the field and our healers here in Haven.”

“We should also speak with the remaining mercenaries and local recruits,” Josephine observed pointedly. “This work for the Inquisition was not part of their original contracts, and they should be informed that we do not expect them to join with us if they do not wish to serve us in this new capacity. As for payment for those who _do_ wish to remain with us,” she paused and sighed again, her gaze focusing on the writ as she continued, “we are not part of the Chantry anymore, and thus we have no access to Chantry funds. It will take quite a bit of work for the money to begin flowing again. However, once we issue our proclamation, it _will_ be easier for me to garner support from more pious individuals, especially those who held Justinia in high regard. Once they find out we are following Most Holy’s will and intend on bringing her murderer to justice, I am certain that we will obtain the coin we need. It will simply take time.”

“We will need to send messages across Thedas declaring our intent,” Leliana replied. “The sooner we spread the word, the sooner we will be able to gain support in all its forms – manpower, finances, and supplies. And, the sooner we will know our most public enemies, as well.”

Cullen propped his foot on his vacant stool as he leaned over the table, elbow braced on his knee. “I will set up road patrols as soon as possible. We will need to ensure the safety of the caravans traveling to and from Haven if we are to get anywhere with this. Our supply lines must be established quickly and kept clear at all times.”

Cassandra nodded, at last closing the book and bowing her head as if in prayer. The following silence that surrounded them was almost oppressive, each of them realizing they were about to take their very first steps on a road that, once they set foot upon it, would not allow them to turn back. Leliana closed her eyes briefly, as if gathering strength, and Josephine took in a deep and slow breath to collect her focus. Cullen pressed his lips together, eyes falling upon the proclamation that was ready to be nailed to the Chantry doors.

“We have our first tasks before us, then,” Cassandra said at length, “and we have little time to waste. Come. Let us begin. And may the Maker be with us all.”


	2. Chapter 2

_Haven, Ferelden; Parvulis (Kingsway), 9:41 Dragon_

And so, it was begun.

Haven was still a chaotic place, but now that the Divine’s Inquisition had officially been established, that chaos seemed more organized than it had been before the Conclave disaster. Together, the founders of this new Inquisition, the brainchild of the late Divine, quickly took the reins, and over the course of the next two weeks, their fledgling order began its first steps towards flight.

Most of those people who remained in the settlement and had not yet pledged themselves to the cause found themselves the recruits of at least one of the four head members. Cullen himself had no issues maintaining his numbers; if anything, his roster had practically exploded. To his great pride, many of the surviving Templars pledged their loyalty to the new Inquisition, eager to see justice done to the one who had murdered the Most Holy and destroyed the Temple of Sacred Ashes. These were effective replacements for many of the hired mercenaries who, their companies significantly reduced in number and their original contracts null, had almost entirely abandoned the area for better prospects elsewhere…

…or an early retirement.

But the Templars weren’t the only ones eager for retribution against the Divine’s killer. Cullen had so many joiners from among the local villagers, men and women of all ages from Haven and other surrounding communities, that he was forced to assign separate training units to his newly-promoted lieutenants; he would no longer be able to personally oversee the training of every soldier, as there simply weren’t enough hours in the day to do so. One evening at the Singing Maiden, Rylen had joked that Cullen was amassing his own army right before their very eyes, but the commander could very well see that jest becoming stunning reality if recruitment numbers were maintained at their current astonishing levels.

Cassandra had done no small amount of recruiting of her own, as promised, and her efforts did much to help expand their forces as well. The Seeker was delighted when Harritt agreed to join the Inquisition as their official smith. He had done what he could to establish a proper forge near the stables, and he had taken on a whole team of apprentices to begin manufacturing of arms and armor for their soldiers. Now, the sounds of hammers striking anvils filled the air day and night as they worked tirelessly to supply the Inquisition’s militant arm. Furthermore, as luck would have it, a quick survey of the surrounding area had revealed an abundance of viable timber and iron ore, and Josephine had managed to convince villagers from a few nearby settlements to work in Haven as miners and lumberjacks in order to extract these natural resources. Eager at the promise of steady coin and food in their bellies, their families came with them, and they added to the Inquisition’s labor force a significant host of seamstresses, tanners, dyers, tailors, and hunters.

Even the Tranquil who had come to Haven seeking asylum from the war found themselves recruits of the cause at Cassandra’s request. Their guardian, the elven apprentice, Minaeve, directed them in her efforts to research all sorts of creatures that inhibited the efforts of the Inquisition soldiers. Minaeve worked with the intent of passing along whatever she learned to Harritt and their healers in order to further their development of proper equipment and tonics to help their forces survive the dangers of the various regions into which they were sent. Right now, those areas did not extend far past the Hinterlands of Ferelden, but Cullen anticipated that they would eventually expand into Orlesian lands, and perhaps even farther, if the Maker blessed their endeavors. Thus, he predicted Minaeve’s research would be beyond invaluable once they ventured into lands with which Cullen was less familiar.

Moreover, Josephine’s various communications impacted their forces in no small way, and not solely in a financial context. Not long after she had sent letters to the courts of Ferelden and Orlais informing them of the Inquisition’s birth at the behest of the late Divine, the ambassador had passed along a responding message to him from King Alistair himself. His Majesty’s contribution to their cause was in the form of a veteran from the Battle of Ostagar – a woman who had served under the command of Loghain mac Tir during the Fifth Blight – who apparently was talented at managing the logistical affairs of large military forces.

Threnn, as the woman was called, would serve as the Inquisition’s quartermaster, distributing the equipment that Harritt and his apprentices manufactured at the forge, as well as ensuring that enough supplies were available to sustain their numbers. Cullen was appreciative of the aid, and between the combined efforts of the quartermaster and his new officers, he felt the pressure upon him ease somewhat, as he could refocus his attention upon expansion and establishment of outposts. It would take some getting used to. He didn’t usually like delegation – it meant he had to trust others to do what was right in his stead. He hated not being able to handle so many important matters on his own; he trusted himself to follow up on important information in a timely manner. Others, he was not so sure of.

He wasn’t the only one delegating, however. Adan, at Leliana’s request, elected to remain among their number, becoming the master healer at the head of an expansive team of mages and Chantry lay sisters whose sole tasks were to collect herbs, brew potions, and tend to the wounds of scouts and soldiers returning from the field. Adan, between designating tasks for his workers, had even managed to pull together a recipe for an herbal tea that would stave off the headaches and shakes plaguing Cullen on a day-to-day basis. To Cullen’s great relief, the concoction was comprised of ingredients they would need anyway for the rest of the soldiers, and thus required no special effort on the healers’ parts. The commander didn’t know how long such a draught would help him, but he was thankful for it and for Adan’s willing aid, and he told the man so at the first opportunity.

Amidst the flurry of all these activities, the mage they called the Herald had effectively hidden herself. According to the rumor mill, the pulse of which Varric constantly kept his thumb upon, she was still recovering from the events that had occurred at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. With the establishment of the Inquisition, the attempts upon her life had ceased, but Cullen kept the guard at her cabin door. As the Inquisition’s most significant recruit and the purported chosen servant of Andraste, she yet had a target painted upon her back, albeit for entirely different reasons now. Leliana had passed word along that the Chantry was officially proclaiming the Inquisition an illegitimate and heretical organization with the blasphemous Herald at its head, and many of the Grand Clerics were actively working against them to see them destroyed before they became too much of a threat. The Chantry feared that the people would turn to the Inquisition to solve their problems instead of relying on the Chantry’s well-established authority, and Cassandra was convinced that Chancellor Roderick was the one actively spreading such fear. Unfortunately for the Chantry, the people had already begun to turn their backs on them.

Not all of the Chantry’s members shared those Grand Clerics’ views on the Inquisition, however. It was not long at all before a letter arrived from the Hinterlands, signed by one Mother Giselle. According to Leliana, the Revered Mother had garnered the favor of Divine Justinia, and the two had become good acquaintances, if not friends, prior to the Conclave. This priestess had, in her letter to the Inquisition, expressed a desire to personally speak to the Herald of Andraste, the mage who had initiated a ripple of change in the Chantry and who now threatened their divine sanction. Scout Lace Harding, a Fereldan surface dwarf and recent recruit of Leliana’s, had conveyed the information that the Revered Mother was currently caring for the refugees at the Hinterlands Crossroads near Redcliffe… those who had fled to the area to escape the dangers of the mage-Templar war. It would be no difficult feat for the Herald to meet her there.

But from what Harding had also told them in various messages over the past few days, the condition of the Hinterlands around the Crossroads was precarious at best and rapidly deteriorating; the rebel mages and Templars who had fled the Conclave disaster had renewed their fight in earnest, each seeking to annihilate the other side in retribution for the Divine’s death. The hapless refugees were now caught in the middle of the freshly-reborn conflict, and, along with Mother Giselle, were effectively trapped by the fighting that surrounded them. Moreover, the reinstated mage-Templar war blocked desperately-needed supply lines to Haven, leaving their caravan routes limited until the threat was cleared.

Thus, it was to this area that Cullen dispatched his first freshly-trained and outfitted platoon, under the direction of Corporal Vale, a shrewd and competent young officer who the commander trusted to handle the situation along with Harding. Some semblance of order had to be reestablished quickly, and it was to their benefit to ensure that the people saw the Inquisition willing and able to do that very thing.

This matter was also the subject of their first war council, conducted in the room they had used to establish the Inquisition in the first place, which was now informally referred to as their “war room.” They had shoved two large tables together to support their maps and materials. Here he, Leliana, and Josephine now stood, passing suggestions back and forth while they awaited the arrival of Cassandra and the Herald.

Even though their primary goal at the moment was to find a way to close the Breach permanently, which involved finding allies who could help the Herald power her Mark, their first order of business had to be making the Inquisition as stable as possible. That included establishing the Inquisition as a legitimate organization in the eyes of the people by convincing, or stopping, their immediate opposition in the Chantry. It also involved garnering the trust of the people themselves by putting a halt to the mage-Templar crisis and making the surrounding areas safer in other ways, including closing additional rifts that had appeared across the land after the Breach’s creation. There was also the matter of making travel easier on patrols and recruiters, which meant obtaining a great number of mounts from local horse breeders.

The three advisors were in the middle of discussing this last matter when, suddenly, the door swung open with a loud creak, and Cassandra entered the war room, followed closely by the Herald herself. As the Seeker closed the door behind them once more, Cullen set eyes upon the woman whom his soldiers both feared and revered beyond measure.

He was a bit surprised to find himself looking slightly downward at her, even across the table; it seemed she was almost an entire foot shorter than he. She was slim, even petite in build, and yet she was not without presence. She carried herself with a confidence and grace similar to that of Josephine, only more powerful… and this was evident even through the new armor she wore, given to her by Harritt in thanks for her aid. Her stature suggested there was a delicateness to her that he had seen in many mages, but her deportment certainly indicated otherwise.

She was pale, her skin the color of ivory, like that of many Circle inhabitants he had known in the past, mage or otherwise. But in stark contrast to her complexion, her hair was as black as Leliana’s pet ravens. He could tell, even with it smoothed back in a ponytail as it was, that it was thick and wavy, loose bangs framing her face and softening her somewhat angular features. Her eyes were upturned, rimmed with long black lashes, and… purple? Blue? What color _were_ they? In the flickering torchlight, they looked to be both, like silk stained with expensive indigo dye or…

And then those eyes suddenly met his, something like a tiny hint of recognition in their depths as she looked at him. Her full lips pulled into a soft smile, and he felt his own lips mirroring hers in response, moving almost of their own accord.

“…of the Inquisition’s forces.”

He blinked. He had almost completely missed Cassandra’s introduction. Scrambling to save himself without revealing the fact he had heard practically none of the Seeker’s words, he tore his eyes from the Herald and glanced downwards at the table. “Such as they are. We lost many soldiers in the valley, and I fear many more before this is through.”

_Maker’s breath… snap out of it, Rutherford…_

With a great amount of effort, he managed to refrain from meeting the Herald’s gaze for the remainder of the meeting. Even as they returned to their hot debate about the most appropriate way in which to approach the permanent closure of the Breach, Cullen forced himself to focus on the discussion without letting those puzzling eyes of hers entrap him again – a task that was made even more difficult when he was treated to her voice for the first time, an almost startlingly melodic sound. Thankfully, she agreed to their proposal to answer Mother Giselle’s request for an audience, and they all suggested ways in which their influence could be expanded while she was at it – a necessary maneuver regardless of which option they ultimately pursued in respect to the Breach. As Josephine correctly pointed out, no one would assist them in their larger tasks if their legitimacy was not established quickly.

When the meeting was finally dismissed, the Herald’s first official Inquisition tasks before her, he couldn’t help but watch as she turned into Josephine’s office ahead of the rest, purpose in her stride, her ponytail bouncing on her armored shoulders. Cassandra and Leliana had already informed him of her earnest desire to help them in their efforts to close the Breach and pursue the Divine’s murderer, but now he had witnessed it first-hand, and he found himself more than relieved.

Their first meeting had also confirmed much of his soldiers’ talk as just that – talk. She was neither a terrifying witch, nor a walking manifestation of Andraste. She was, however, a woman who seemed to have a level head on her shoulders and a desire to do good for the people of Thedas, as evidenced by her willingness to help them. If she was worried or afraid or even indignant at having this role as Herald thrust upon her, she didn’t show it… at least not during this brief encounter. If anything, she was accepting and ready to move forward. Already, there seemed to be much to admire about her…

As he made a quick exit from the Chantry to return to his troops, he shook his head as if to physically clear her from his mind. The Herald was a mysteriously compelling person, for reasons that were somewhat difficult to fully comprehend. Guided by Andraste or not, able to ultimately seal the Breach or not, perhaps she was just the right kind of person they needed right now to propel them from their floundering position.

A herald of change.


End file.
